


Negotiation Tactics

by WestOrEast



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Ass Play, Blow Jobs, F/F, Futanari, Girl Penis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 01:34:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21245330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WestOrEast/pseuds/WestOrEast
Summary: Arwen is willing to do anything if it means that the trade agreement is signed. And Queen Alai is quite willing to take her up on that offer, and ask even more of Arwen than she had expected.





	Negotiation Tactics

  
After three years of sitting by her husband’s side in war and peace, Arwen had begun to get a feel for how negotiations were going. And she could tell the difference between a meeting that was being stonewalled, and one where both sides both wanted to come to an agreement, they just had firmly held values or interests they were loathe to give up on. And, sadly, today it was the former.  
  
Keeping her face calm and impassive, Arwen looked across the room at the small huddle of the King and Queen of Near Harad, and their gaggle of advisors. She and Aragorn were in a fairly similar state, as they discussed what approach they should take when the discussions reconvened. She softly sighed, before turning back to look at the Gondorian advisors as they debated.  
  
There was something satisfying in the thought of having Aragorn lead an army down south to settle the issue firmly. Arwen knew it would be a hollow joy even if the campaign went well and her husband returned unharmed, but the thought of not having to deal with Her Royal Majesty’s arrogant, icy demeanor for hours at a time was a _very_ appealing thought. Arwen forced the thought down and focused on what the minister of the navy was saying about Haradian pines, and how access to them would let Gondor build the first proper navy it had seen in decades.  
  
And, sad to say, Arwen had a feeling it would be in vain, that the arguments and discussions and negotiations would continue and continue and continue, without end. And yet, she still had to support her husband in this, and that meant memorizing the arguments and delivering them in an impassioned manner.

*******

Later that night, Arwen slipped through the halls and walkways of the upper levels of Minas Tirith. Her dark cloak from home kept her from any prying eyes, though nobody would dare to question the queen of Gondor. They would still talk, though.  
  
Arwen let herself into the small mansion the royal family from Harad had claimed for the length of their stay. There were few guards around, which Arwen supposed meant that at least no treachery was being planned. And the fewer eyes here, the better.  
  
The Queen of Harad was alone, not even her husband with her. And that was also good. The brown-skinned woman looked up sharply as Arwen appeared at the corner of her vision. She stood up, drawing a deep breath, before recognizing the half-elven woman.  
  
“Your Majesty,” Queen Alia said, sketching a shallow bow from one queen to another. “I hadn’t expected to see you until tomorrow.”  
  
“I had hoped to save both of us more delay and frustration,” Arwen said, the long-practiced words coming easily to her lips. “Neither Gondor or Harad gain anything from these drawn-out talks, and both of us have our people to tend to.”   
  
Arwen hoped this would work. An appeal from one woman to another, it was possible that it would work. And the division of duties between king and queen had made things even easier, as Queen Alia was responsible for Near Harad’s finances, while her husband guided the country’s army. And, more relevantly, the navy that was leery about its neighbor having ships equal to its own.  
  
“So I heard all of this past afternoon,” Alia said, leaning backwards on a chair, the golden carvings along the arms of it showing that it had been brought up from the south. “And yet, the reasons have not really changed.”  
  
“There’s no need to think about your co-ruler right now,” Arwen said, sitting down on the bench that rested across from Alia. “Just think, as a woman, about my plea.”  
  
“As a woman, em?” Alia asked, tapping a long finger on her armrest. “That’s an interesting way of putting it.”  
  
Queen Alia stared at Queen Arwen for a long minute. Arwen returned the gaze levelly. She had been stared at by far more intimidating people and entities than a human woman in silk robes.   
  
Even if Alia had a more regal, cold, calculating demeanor to her than shrieking orcs or a disappointed father. Alia was almost as tall as Aragorn, which was a doubly impressive feat for both a woman and a human. And she was quite well-built, with broad shoulders and bare arms that held a decent amount of muscle.  
  
And then there was the rest of her. She was built on a larger scale than Arwen, who’s own beauty was a slender, thin one, as elves, even half-elves who had joined the race of men were. Alia, though, was far more human in her features. Large breasts, a curved figure, and thick legs. All of which she tended to show off, her dress adapted for the hot coasts of Near Harad rather than the cool summers of Arwen’s northern childhood home.  
  
“I’ll speak to His Majesty on signing the treaty,” Queen Alia said at last. “In exchange for a private favor.” Her lips drew back, revealing shining white teeth in a non-humorous smile. “Just between the two of us.”  
  
Worse than Arwen had been hoping for, but it was something she was willing to live with. Just so long as there was some _progress_.  
  
“Of course,” Arwen said, feeling a flicker of hope and excitement stir to life inside of her belly. “What are you thinking of?”  
  
“I want,” Queen Alia said, leaning back in her chair and reaching down to her crotch, “for you to suck my cock, Your Majesty.”  
  
Arwen blinked. Then she looked down, as Alia pulled a penis out from her embroidered robes, and started to run her hand up and down it, stroking the rapidly stiffening shaft.  
  
“What?” Arwen barked, rising to her feet and clutching her robes in her hands as her face alternately paled and purpled. “What do you mean by that?”  
  
“Exactly what I said,” Alia said, looking Arwen’s body up and down as she slid her hand along her shaft. “I’ve never had an elf give me a blowjob before, and I’m sure it would be a _wonderful_ experience.” She leered. “And in exchange, you’ll get what you want, and we’ll all be happy together.”  
  
Arwen fixed Alia with her very best glare. Then she turned on her heel and left the suite, not even bothering to respond. The side of her face was twitching as various negative emotions warred together inside of her. At the moment, the dominating emotion was rage, though shock and surprise were also present. Arwen hadn’t _known_ that women could have an alternate set of genitalia. Unless, as part of some complex scheme to seize power, a man… no, that would be ridiculous. And even if it wasn’t, it still wouldn’t change what Alia had asked of her.  
  
The negotiations would continue tomorrow, and Arwen would _not_ be spending a great deal of time trying to form a rapprochement with her opposite.

*******

The sun had set once more, and Arwen was slowly kneading Aragorn’s shoulders as he stared at the empty meeting room. Even though his clothes, she could feel the tension in his muscles, and his body was slow to relax and become pliable underneath her fingers.  
  
“How much more can this take?” Aragorn groaned, covering his face with one hand and slowly rubbing his cheeks. “And how can sitting and talking be so much more tiring than wandering in the wilds?”  
  
“Harad will be returning to their own lands soon,” Arwen said, her voice as warm and sympathetic as she could make it while discussing Near-Harad and their queen. “Perhaps next year, things will have changed.”  
  
“We can’t wait a year,” Aragorn sighed, leaning forward and giving Arwen access to more of his back. She moved down a bit, feeling the warmth and firmness of his muscles. “The shipyards are waiting for their lumber, the merchants need their protection, we can’t just keep all the balls in the air until next spring.” He sighed heavily. “If only they would charge a less dear price.”  
  
Arwen nodded, her lips twitching downwards as she thought. A certain solution was coming to mind. She didn’t like it. Not at all. But compared to the good of the realm and the good of her husband’s rule… Arwen sighed.  
  
“I might have a way to get Queen Alai to agree,” Arwen said, feeling like each word was being wrenched out of her, but knowing it was for the greater good. “I’ll need to do a personal favor for her, though.” Part of her hoped that Aragorn wouldn’t ask any more questions, and would leave things at that. The rest of her wanted to be honest with her husband, though.  
  
“What kind of favor?” Aragorn asked, twisting in chair to look at her. “A tapestry woven by you and your handmaidens?”  
  
Arwen sighed. She couldn’t quite bring herself to look down at her husband, and instead stared at the mural on the far wall of the room.  
  
“She wants me to…” Arwen swallowed, “lay with her.”  
  
Aragorn didn’t visibly react to that. He kept on staring ahead, his face turned away from Arwen’s. Arwen felt an embarrassed heat spreading across her face, and a churning inside of her gut.  
  
“Does King Farad know about this?” Aragorn asked after a time, his voice _very_ flat and neutral.  
  
“I don’t think so,” Arwen said quietly. “And I would certainly refuse if he was to be there.”  
  
Aragorn picked up a quill and idly spun it around his fingers, still not turning around to look at Arwen. And Arwen didn’t _want_ him too. This was bad enough. To have to actually look at her husband as they talked about such things, Arwen didn’t even want to _imagine_ the shame she would feel from that.  
  
“I think,” Aragorn sighed heavily and turned around. There was a sadness in his eyes, a deep, enveloping sadness that made Arwen wilt. But there was also a love in there, a love for her and for his people, that made her grow once more. “I think that it would be best if you go to her and see what you can get for as dear of a price as you can manage.” He hesitated for a second, words forming on his lips, but never actually spilling from his mouth. Then he stood up.  
  
“<I love you, Arwen>,” he said, slipping into Noldorian, the familiar sounds of her childhood slipping by her as she rested her head against his chest. “<And I will still love you, even after this. Just as much and for all the same reasons.>”  
  
Arwen’s chest hitched as she fought back sobs. Her years were less from sadness and far more from love of her husband. She wrapped her arms around him in turn and the King and Queen of Gondor held each other close for a while.

*******

Arwen had spent the night preparing her strength. And now, as day broke, she once more went down to the sixth level, seeking out the Harad embassy. Once more, there were few guards around, though there was a bustle of servants as they rose and went about their tasks.  
  
At least there were all staff that the embassy had brought with them, and not natives of Gondor. Tales told about Arwen in other lands would be far easier to deal with then rumors spread in the very capital.  
  
Arwen was ushered into the same room as before, and once more left alone with Queen Alai. The large woman slowly smiled, standing up and not even trying to hide the lust in her eyes as she looked at Arwen. Arwen refused to flinch, and matched the other woman’s gaze.  
  
“I wasn’t sure if you would be coming back,” Alai said. “Not after how the talks went yesterday.”  
  
“I’m willing to put Gondor’s benefit ahead of my own good,” Arwen replied. “Do you feel different?”  
  
“Think of it as a way to bring our countries closer together,” Alai said, avoiding the topic somewhat. “And didn’t your king say that at the banquet when we first arrived?”  
  
Arwen’s eyes narrowed at the mention of her husband. She glanced behind her to make sure that the door was tightly shut, and strode over to Alai, taking long steps. There was a cruel smile on Alai’s face, that did not go well with her expansive, beautiful features.  
  
“Let’s get this over with,” Arwen said, breathing in and out and trying to remain calm. Losing her temper wouldn’t solve anything.  
  
“Let’s,” Alai said. “Would you like to start with a blowjob here, or somewhere else in your fair city?”  
  
“Start?” Arwen asked, raising her eyebrows and staring down at the human woman. “There will only be the one.”  
  
“That _was_ the deal,” Alai said, her smile taking on a tinge of humor that failed to arouse any matching levity in Arwen. “But after you spurned my gesture, the deal has changed.” She paused for a moment, closely studying Arwen’s eyes. “I’ll be taking your anal virginity as well.” She paused for a second. “Unless I _won’t_ be?”  
  
“You won’t,” Arwen said, her voice as cold as snow upon the mountain. She realized the double meaning to her words as Alai’s smile turned to a smirk, but she didn’t feel a need to clarify. “You’ll get the use of my mouth, and nothing more.”  
  
“I hardly think that’s going to be the case,” Alai replied, leaning forward a bit, her eyes gleaming. “The costs grows the longer it remains unmet.” She ran a hand through her long, black hair. “I certainly won’t be satisfied with merely a bit of tongue work.” She ran her eyes up and down Arwen’s body. “And your chest obviously can’t tend to me in the proper manner, Your Majesty. So unless you’re offering something more precious than that rear…”  
  
_That_ was something that just wasn’t on the table. Arwen shook her head, her long, black hair rising out from her back a bit. Part of her saw the humor in this, negotiating over the terms of the end of the negotiations. The rest of her was filled with a cold, rock-hard contempt.  
  
“You’ve tipped your hand already, Your Majesty,” Arwen replied, putting as much care into the title as Alai had. “There is only one Elven queen in all of Gondor. There is no one else you can turn to. If you want my service, than you’ll have to take my thoughts into consideration.”  
  
“But,” Alai said, a light in her eyes that Arwen had last seen on the other side of the negotiating table, “this is not just between the two of us, is it? You and Gondor need access to our forests, and for the deal to go through, _this_ deal needs to happen. And I want more than just a blowjob from you.”  
  
“I’m not giving you something my husband has never even _dreamed_ of,” Arwen said, speaking over Alai’s disbelieving snort. “You can have my mouth, but that is it.” She paused for a second. “My hands, however, can be a different story.”  
  
“A handjob?” Alai said, rolling her eyes. “What is the attraction of that? No,” Alai said, a grim smile on her face. “But perhaps something that doesn’t actually open you up.” She lifted her hand as if she was cupping something. “Your dresses show you have an appealing rear. I wouldn’t mind using that if your rear isn’t available.”  
  
Arwen hesitated for a second. Then she nodded. That was as good as she could get, most likely. It was more than she wanted to give, which was nothing, but deal-making was the art of the possible.  
  
“Very well,” Arwen said, with less than her usual grace. “Make sure your servants won’t disturb us.”  
  
“Why would they, where we’re going?” Alai asked, rising to her feet and smiling. “You should be more worried about your own subjects seeing you.”  
  
Arwen lifted one eyebrow, which was the _only_ movement on her face. The rest of her face remained perfectly still, even as inside, the heat of anger rose another degree.  
  
“I can’t see why I would possibly want to do these things outside of this room,” Arwen replied, her voice cool and even, thanks to centuries of long practice.  
  
“It’s less what you want, and more what I command,” Alai said, drawing on a trace of royal haughtier and staring down at Arwen as she drew herself up to her full, and admittedly impressive, height. “It’s far too nice of a day to spend the entire morning in here with you and then all of the afternoon negotiating.”  
  
“Then you should find some activity that takes you outside into the city for the morning,” Arwen said. “I certainly won’t be part of such an indecent act.”  
  
“Yes, you certainly shall,” Alai said in turn. “And how much of a choice do you really have? We are only staying for a short while longer, and can you afford to let us return home without the treaty signed? And surely you yourself wouldn’t be spending this morning cooped up in a single small room, would you?”  
  
Alai _did_ have a point there. Arwen would have liked to be out in the city as well, perhaps talking with the Green Elves about their plans to beautify the city. And even if she did have to turn her hand to paperwork and the day by day workings of the city and Gondor as a whole, she still would have done it outside, letting the sun and wind surround her.  
  
“As a queen, I can not possibly be seen by anyone of Gondor doing such a thing,” Arwen replied. “But if you _must_ leave the embassy to do this thing, then there are certain spots in the city where privacy can be found.”  
  
“Very well,” Alai said with a smile. Arwen wondered if this had been the result she had been working towards all the time. But such concerns couldn’t help her now. “By all means, Your Majesty, show me around your beautiful city.”  
*******  
The gardens of Minas Tirith were not very large. But they were beautiful and well-made, surrounding the Houses of Healing. And, most importantly for Arwen right now, there were several spots along it where one need not be seen, and could stay for some time, unseen by eyes either above or to the sides. It wasn’t something she had ever thought of needing before, but she was glad for it, as shame warred with anger inside of her.  
  
She and Queen Alai were alone, and had walked through the streets without anyone approaching them. The entire way there, Arwen was aware of the sly, secretive smile Alai wore, and longed to do _something_ to wipe it off of her face. But nothing came to mind, at least that Arwen was willing to do.  
  
“It is a lovely view,” Alai said, looking out over the edge of the city towards the patchwork of farms and the glittering river beyond, neatly bisecting the great valley that Minas Tirith sat on, hugging the western edge. “I would need to ride for hours to see the like back home.” She turned towards Arwen, smiling. “But I suppose I’m about to get an even _better_ view, aren’t I?”  
  
Arwen fixed her with an unamused stare. She looked from side to side. But the gravel path they stood upon was neatly enclosed by a stone wall to the south and west, and a brightly blooming bush to the north, that stood taller than she was. Nobody could come here without making a great deal of sound on the small stones that formed the path. Nor could they be seen from any direction except straight up. It was as secluded of a place as Arwen could find without leaving the city proper.  
  
She sighed and looked at Alai, who had turned her attention towards Arwen as well. The brown-skinned woman smiled and stretched, lifting her arms above her head in a smooth gesture. Despite herself, Arwen still felt a flicker of lust towards the well-formed woman.  
  
“Anything you’d like to say before we begin?” Queen Alai said, a confident, smirking smile on her face.  
  
“Only that you should hope that Harad never needs to come and treat with Gondor,” Arwen said coolly, staring at her fellow queen.  
  
Alai chuckled, and started adjusting her own clothes, fiddling with her crotch. In seconds, her penis fell out. Arwen automatically drew back a bit. Then she mastered herself and examined the shaft with a bit more care.  
  
Arwen went to her knees. She knew what was expected of her. She had done it with her husband often enough. She would just have to pretend that it was Aragorn again, that everything was the way it should be. Arwen wasn’t certain she was a good enough actor to really make herself believe something like _that_, though. But she would have to try. So much was resting on her shoulders that she couldn’t just say she had given up after hitting the first stumbling block.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Arwen reached out and wrapped her hand around Alia’s shaft. It was hot and hard in her hand, and close enough in size to Aragorn’s that she couldn’t make out any immediate differences. Except for the color, of course. The dark brown of the blood-filled shaft stood out from Aragorn’s paler rod.  
  
“Ah, that feels nice,” Alai said in a satisfied voice. “But you’re not going to stop there, are you?”  
  
Arwen’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the rod in front of her. That was preferable to lifting her eyes towards Alai’s face. She slowly slid her hand up and down along it, feeling a bit of twitching as she squeezed down. And Arwen resisted the urge to squeeze _too_ hard, to work out her frustrations on the shaft waving back and forth in front of her.  
  
More than this was needed. Taking a deep breath, Arwen opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out. She started to lick around the top of Alai’s shaft (and part of Arwen still couldn’t believe that such a feminine woman would have such a masculine shaft), her lithe tongue swirling around it. Arwen knew what she was doing, from taking care of Aragorn like this several times. She had never thought the lessons she had learned from her husband would ever be displayed to another person, and yet, here she was.  
  
“Ah, that feels good,” Alai said in a satisfied voice. “Elves really are a carnal race, aren’t they? I knew the old priests had to say at least one or two things that were true.”  
  
Arwen’s eyes darted upwards at Alai before she could stop herself. The human woman looked far too satisfied for her own good, the familiar smile on her face, burning its way into Arwen’s mind before she could lower her gaze again.  
  
Arwen’s body was beginning to betray her. It associated being on her knees and tending to a penis in front of her with a romantic and erotic atmosphere, the kind that she always felt when she and Aragorn went to the bedchamber. There was a heat building in between her legs, and a restlessness inside of her stomach.  
  
Arwen did her best to deny and ignore the feeling. Instead, she forced herself to concentrate on what was in front of her, doing her part to seal the deal. Right, that was what mattered. Making sure that Gondor got what was needed. Nothing else mattered nearly as much as making sure that things turned out _right_.  
  
Arwen drew back a bit to examine her handiwork. The shaft in front of her was gleaming with saliva. It was a good start, she supposed, but only a start. There was a lot more work that needed to be done. And that would be done by her and her alone. Even if there had been someone else Arwen trusted enough to go to for help, the sheer _embarrassment_ of it would have stopped her. No, this was something that only Arwen could do.  
  
Something that Queen Alai was quick to remind her of.  
  
“Keep on going,” Alai urged, resting one hand on Arwen’s shoulder. Arwen could feel it trembling with suppressed energy. “Don’t you dare stop now.”  
  
Arwen lifted her head a bit to give Alai a good glare, her eyes narrowed. It seemed to wash off of Alai without effect. Much like, Arwen had to admit, she would have done if a similar glare had been issued at her. Queens learned not to let enmity affect them too much.  
  
Leaning back in, Arwen knew what she had to do next. It was the logical next step, of course. Actually taking her fellow monarch inside of her mouth.  
  
Arwen sighed a bit, and then opened her mouth. She refused to look up at Alai’s face as she leaned forward. Then she wrapped her lips around the shaft, and started to sink down along it. She went slowly, of course, making sure that she could handle inch after inch of the shaft as it slowly filled her mouth up.  
  
Alai was already leaking precum. It was a salty, slightly bitter taste. Arwen didn’t enjoy it, but there was nothing she could do about it. She would just have to make sure that she didn’t end up tasting an even stronger flavor when Alai finally reached her limit.  
  
“Ah,” Alai sighed. “If I ever get married, I’ll have to make sure they have a mouth that’s the equal of yours.”  
  
_What_ a compliment. Arwen had never felt more flattered in her life. She kept on working on the rod inside of her mouth, pressing her tongue against it, doing her best to coax a quick orgasm out of the younger woman.  
  
Inside of Arwen, a certain sense of arousal was still growing. She pressed her legs together tightly, doing her best to dismiss the sensations. Feeling arousal was totally inappropriate for the situation. Arwen just needed to focus on what was in front of her. And then what would be behind her. She was still worried that she had been out-negotiated.  
  
Arwen took the queen’s shaft deeper and deeper into her mouth, slowly sliding along it. She stopped halfway down, which was as far as she had ever taken Aragorn. And he had never had the slightest problem with it.  
  
Arwen wrapped her hand around the lower half of Alai’s shaft and started pumping it up and down. The rod was firm underneath her fingers and _hot_. Arwen could feel the heat filling her mouth and moving through her fingers.  
  
Arwen pressed her tongue against the shaft, licking it as much as she could while it was inside of her mouth. Alai sighed in satisfaction. From what Arwen could see of her body language, the other queen looked _very_ relaxed and content with the situation. How wonderful for her, Arwen thought a bit sourly. Arwen, on the other hand, was carefully listening for any hint of someone coming up along the paths. She was prepared to spring to her feet in an _instant_ and take several long steps away from Alai, regardless of what the other woman thought of the matter.  
  
Alai ran a hand down the side of Arwen’s face, stroking her cheek. Arwen managed to make sure that her body didn’t react to that, and that she just kept on moving up and down along the rod, slowly, carefully, tending to it, making sure that Alai wouldn’t have a thing to complain about when she reached her limit.  
  
Of course, that would only be half of what Arwen had to do. She sighed around the rod in her mouth at the thought of the humiliating actions she would have to do even after tending to Alai’s length with her mouth. But, she forced herself to think of how good things would be afterwards, once Alai threw her support behind the treaty. And if she reneged on her deal, well, things would take a _different_ turn, wouldn’t they? The Near-Harad delegation had seen Gondor extending the hand (and wallet) of friendship. But oathbreakers would see the mailed fist, especially after breaking their word in such a dramatic fashion.  
  
“A smile?” Alai said. “I see you really are learning to enjoy this.”  
  
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Arwen said, pulling her lips from the shaft. Her voice was a bit thick, and she had to swallow repeatedly. “Just think about what will happen this afternoon.”  
  
“Don’t you worry about that,” Alai said, reaching down and running a hand along one of Arwen’s pointed ears. She seemed a bit disappointed when Arwen didn’t react to that. “I know how to be convinced by the arguments your ministers will present today.”  
  
Arwen nodded, her fears slightly eased. Then she returned to the shaft in front of her, moving her mouth up and down along it, doing her best to take care of the length as well as she could. She hoped she was doing a good enough job, and that this wouldn’t take so long that her absence would be noted.  
  
Of course, that would also depend on how long Alai lasted. Arwen had a feeling that the men and women, far from the light of the West, would be quite willing to engage in all kinds of debauchery, and that Alai would be exceedingly experienced in these matters, and have a great deal of stamina. Especially since, now that Arwen thought about it, many of the maids she had seen at the embassy were attractive women. If Alai indulged herself with her servants, then Arwen might have a great deal of work to do.  
  
And she’d just have to _do_ that work, wouldn’t she? Arwen started moving her hand along the lower half of the rod once more, while she bobbed her head up and down along the upper part. Alai was producing more of her precum, and it was steadily erasing the lingering taste of the morning meal Arwen had eaten an hour earlier.  
  
Arwen supposed it was pointless to request that Alai return the favor that she was giving to the foreign queen. And she wasn’t certain that she _wanted_ the other woman to see her crotch, at any rate. And, of course, there was the real question of if Alai could match her husband’s skill at using his mouth and hands to bring Arwen to the height of pleasure.  
  
And Arwen _was_ feeling rather aroused. Not the point where it was distracting or anything, but there was a heat inside of her that was refusing to go away. Indeed, it was steadily growing, rising to a higher and higher level inside of her as Arwen moved back and forth along the shaft. Arwen had _zero_ plans to address it, and instead planned to completely ignore it for the rest of the day. And tonight, perhaps, with her husband, matters could be taken care of between the two of them in private.  
  
“It’s such a nice day,” Alai said with a smile. “And it does feel strange to be able to spend time outside, in summer, in the afternoon, and not feel that you’re in an oven.” She looked down at Arwen and idly toyed with a lock of black hair that had come undone from a braid. “And something like this makes it even better.”  
  
It _was_ a lovely day outside. Though all of Gondor’s summers seemed excellent. A cool breeze flowed through the city, and the sun beat down on anyone outside, warming them as they went about their lives. Arwen quite enjoyed spending time outside, though she had never done _anything_ like this. The thought of being caught with her husband would be bad enough. And now, with the possibility of being caught with a foreign woman, the embarrassment running through Arwen’s veins was redoubled. She could only hope that it wouldn’t become _shame_, that someone would come and find the two of them together.  
  
Arwen ran her tongue along everything that was inside of her mouth. From the tip, resting against the roof of her mouth, all the way to her lips. And then back again. Arwen did her best to make Alai feel as good as she could. For however long that would end up taking.  
  
From time to time, Arwen glanced up at Alai. Every time she did so, Alai was staring down at her, a smile of variable size on her face. Arwen could never bring herself to maintain the eye contact for long, and kept on finding herself staring back down at Alai’s shaft instead of looking the human woman in the face.  
  
Arwen was very, very glad that the gardens were deserted at this time of day. She hadn’t heard a single footfall yet, and with how keenly she was listening, Arwen was certain she would be able to tell if anyone so much as set foot inside the garden, let alone stepped onto the path that led to the nook she and Alai were sequestered away in. And even beyond the relief in not getting caught, there was the knowledge that Alai was certain to _not_ count an act of service that had been interrupted halfway through as one she would accept.  
  
Arwen wondered if she _was_ halfway through with this. It seemed to be taking forever to make Alai orgasm, and part of Arwen wished that she was more familiar with the woman so she would be able to tell how close the other queen was to her limit. The rest of her was just as glad to not have done this already.  
  
And even once this was done, there was still the second favor to do. Arwen sighed around the rod filling her mouth at the thought of having to do that as well. But what other options were there? Especially after Arwen had gone so far and done so much already.  
  
“You’re not as good at sucking cock as I had expected you to be,” Alai said musingly, tapping her fingers against her chin. “But either you’ve got a lot of practice in, or you’re a natural at it already.” She chuckled, a high-pitched sound that sounded a bit incongruous coming from such a well-built woman. “Care to comment on which it is?”  
  
Arwen _didn’t_, in fact. She did her best to ignore Alai, and focused on the task in front of her. And inside of her. Arwen slowly slid her tongue from the top of Alai’s shaft down as far as she could. She could even feel it sticking outside of her mouth a bit as Arwen rubbed it against the other woman’s shaft, before drawing it back inside of her mouth.  
  
Arwen frowned as a thought came to her. She couldn’t see anything but the shaft in front of her. But what if there was more? What were Alai’s robes hiding? After some consideration of it, as she glided up and down along the rod, Arwen decided she didn’t want to know. Let Alai keep her secrets. Arwen would just focus on what she had to do. And that was _more_ than enough, anyways.  
  
Arwen wasn’t sure how much time had passed, as she went up and down along Alai’s shaft. And it didn’t really matter, she supposed. What was important was getting Alai to reach her peak. Make sure that the other woman felt as good as was possible for her body to manage, and then, well, make her feel that way again. And for an important, worthy goal. Arwen kept repeating that to herself, focusing on what she was working for.  
  
Finally, Alai came. Not that she gave Arwen any warning of doing so, of course. Arwen just had time to feel Alai’s rod twitch inside of her mouth, and then she gasped and pulled back, feeling her mouth getting filled with semen. Or she tried to pull back, at least. Alai’s hand went to the back of her head, and held her in place, keeping Arwen’s lips wrapped around the brown-skinned woman’s lower head.  
  
“We wouldn’t want to make a mess, would we?” Alai said with a chuckle. “I know how hard it can be to clean royal clothing. And it might present a few interesting discussions with the maids as they do so, wouldn’t it?”  
  
Arwen stared up at her, her eyes cold and unamused. Alai may have had a point, but there were plenty of ways to deal with that beyond taking Alai’s orgasm into Arwen’s mouth. And her shaft was still as hard as an iron bar and still keeping Arwen’s lips open.  
  
Arwen could see where this was going to go. She rolled her eyes and decided that she might at least pre-empt Alai somewhat. Even as the other queen opened her mouth, Arwen started swallowing the sticky, salty semen filling her mouth. It didn’t taste great, but she still managed to get most of it done. All that was left was a film covering her tongue, that still had enough of a taste to it that Arwen knew nothing but wine would take care of it.  
  
“Normally I have to tell them to do that,” Alai said with a smirk, sitting down on a bench behind her. “But if you’re… experienced enough to do so on your own, well,” Alai shrugged and laughed. “I’m glad to see it.”  
  
Arwen struggled to come up with a reply to that as she rose to her feet. She looked down at herself, and brushed a few clinging bits of gravel off of her dress. She swallowed again, and managed to get a bit more of the lingering cum out of her mouth. She could still feel the weight of it inside of her belly, thick and clinging, not going anywhere.  
  
“I trust you’re satisfied with this?” Arwen asked, staring down at the other woman. Even seated, Alai was still tall enough that the top of her head was level with the base of Arwen’s neck.  
  
“If I hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have cum,” Alai replied. “But _do_ remember that there’s still a second half to this.”  
  
“I haven’t,” Arwen said, stifling a sigh. “Believe me, I haven’t.”  
  
“Good,” Alai said, looking down at her shaft. It was still as hard as it had ever been, and glistening with Arwen’s saliva. “And I see no reason why we shouldn’t start on that part right now. Can you?”  
  
“No,” Arwen said, in complete agreement with the other woman for once. “I’m willing to get this over with as quickly as possible.”  
  
“You have such a sweet, tender way with words,” Alai said, rising to her feet once more and stepping close to Arwen. “It warms my heart to hear such tender sentiments expressed.”  
  
Arwen fixed Alai with a look, without effect. Inside, Arwen was wondering how, exactly, she was supposed to do this. What was really expected of her? She supposed Alai would be sure to tell her, though that was hardly something to strike joy inside of Arwen.  
  
“Let’s see,” Alai said, looking Arwen over. “Alright, turn around.”  
  
Alai actually reached out and grabbed Arwen’s shoulders to make her do just that, seemingly not trusting Arwen to manage it on her own. Arwen rolled her eyes and stared out over the waist-high wall that separated her from quite the drop, looking at the yellow grass and the green farms, stretching from the walls of Minas Tirith all the way to the Great River. It was a useful distraction from feeling Alai touching her, her hands focusing on Arwen’s waist and rear.  
  
“Well, it’s a good thing you wore a skirt and a top today, isn’t it?” Alai said after a while, her hands starting to creep underneath Arwen’s clothing. Arwen’s face was steadily growing red, but she did her best not to pull away from the confident, wandering hands. “If you had worn that dress you had yesterday, you’d need to be completely naked for this to work.” Alai laughed. “Though I’d hardly say no to seeing something like that.”  
  
“If I _had_ worn a full-body dress,” Arwen said, not turning her head to look at Alai, and still staring out over the wall, “the negotiations would have taken an entirely different direction.”  
  
“Yes, we might have been doing this back at the embassy after all,” Alai said in agreement. “But as it is… ah, here we go.”  
  
Arwen shivered as her skirt fell down around her ankles. She could _feel_ Alai’s eyes studying her exposed skin, running over every inch of what she was showing. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire, and her fingers dug into the wall, feeling the unyielding stone underneath them.  
  
“Magnificent,” Alai said after a while. “Simply wonderful.” She sighed, and ran a hand up along Arwen’s thigh. The _inside_ of Arwen’s thigh. “I hadn’t expected it to look this good.”  
  
Arwen wasn’t surprised when she felt Alai’s hands on her underwear, tugging it down. She stayed staring straight ahead, hoping that Alai would be content with that, and not do any further exploring. And, for instance, discover that there was still some moisture along Arwen’s folds. Well, _still_. As if Arwen had ever completely stopped feeling the arousal filling her. Even now, at its lowest ebb, it was still there, making Arwen feel so _twitchy_ and worried about what that said about her.  
  
With Arwen’s lower body completely bared, it was only a matter of time before she felt Alai’s hands on her rear. The Queen of Near-Harad was surprisingly gentle, her strong fingers squeezing down, but not to the point of pain, as she explored Arwen’s body. From time to time, she would go down along Arwen’s thighs, but she would never actually move to the front of Arwen’s body. Something that Arwen was thankful for, and also a touch surprised by. It showed more restraint than she would have expected from the other woman. It also wasn’t something that Arwen was going to question, or even bring up.  
  
Instead, she just stayed staring out over the city as she felt Alai knead and caress her rear. And felt the _effects_ of that. Especially the arousal that was starting to form inside of her once more. Arwen’s face slowly changed from spots of brightly burning red on her cheeks, to a dull red blush that spread across her entire face. She was barely able to hold herself still, not moving a bit as she kept herself quiet as well, not giving a sign of what was happening to her.  
  
“This really is a nice ass,” Alai finally said. Arwen was sure she was nodding. “And I’m going to enjoy it a great deal.”  
  
Arwen started, a tremor running through her body as she felt Alai grab one shoulder. Then she felt something hot and hard and _stiff_ pressing against her rear, resting in between her cheeks. Arwen’s blush redoubled, as she felt Alai’s other hand pressing against the outside of her rear. Arwen could picture the small valley that her body was forming, wrapping herself around the rod pressing against her.  
  
“Lean forward a bit,” Alai said, her voice filled with lust. “There, that’s perfect.”  
  
Arwen knew that it had been so that she would push her rear out from her body a bit more. And the position meant that she had to spread her legs a bit to find a better place of balance. And that meant that it was a pretty _lewd_ gesture. But there was nothing Arwen could about it. She just had to hope that being like this would be attractive enough to Alai that things would go _quickly_, and that this would be over as soon as possible.  
  
Then Arwen’s thoughts went to what being _over_ would actually mean. She sighed a bit, realizing that she was going to have Alai’s semen on her skin, almost certainly. And Arwen didn’t have anything to clean herself up with. She would have to redress and return to the citadel, with Alai’s semen drying on her skin. And by then the day would be picking up into a full swing, and there was a real question of if Arwen would be able to find enough privacy to clean herself off, or if she would have to do through the rest of the day, including the negotiations, with Alai’s semen still on her.  
  
Alai started to thrust as those thoughts ran through Arwen’s mind. Arwen shivered, feeling the hot, hard shaft pressing against her starting to move, sliding back and forth, up and down, back and forth. The muscles in her legs tensed, and Arwen had to resist the urge to lash out.  
  
Or to do something else. For some reason, the arousal that Arwen had already been feeling was starting to rise up inside of her again, growing at a rate that Arwen almost found _disturbing_ in how quickly it started to work its effects on her. She was glad she was facing away from Alai, so that the other woman was unable to see her face.  
  
“This is a nice ass,” Alai said, still thrusting away. “You don’t do nearly enough to show it off, Your Majesty.” She squeezed one globe. “These dresses are a nice start, but really, you need something that just cuts away around here,” her finger traced a circle around the entirety of Arwen’s rear, “and let your people _really_ see what you have to offer them.” She paused for a second as Arwen’s face twitched, trying to come up with a response that would properly encapsulate what she thought of that suggestion. “I hear your winters are cold though, so maybe that would only work in the summer.”  
  
“Or perhaps,” Arwen retorted, “it would never work at all. Do you really think I would _ever_ agree to something like that?”  
  
“Oh, one never knows,” Alai said with a chuckle. Arwen had the feeling Alai didn’t really expect her to agree with the fashion being proposed, and was merely expounding on the benefits of it for her own private amusement. “With a new king and a new drive, isn’t now exactly the point where new ideas should be introduced to Gondor?”  
  
Arwen twisted her body around to properly look at Alai, giving her an extremely unamused look. It didn’t have much effect, and Alai merely gave a large grin back at Arwen. That confirmed, as much as anything could, that Alai didn’t actually expect her idea to be adopted.  
  
Arwen quickly turned back to the east, hoping that the look she had given Alai had bene brief enough that the southern woman couldn’t see anything else in it. Such as the lust Arwen was starting to feel inside of her, a lust that was steadily growing higher and higher, and becoming more and more insistent.  
  
“How much longer will this take?” Arwen asked, barely managing to keep her voice steady.  
  
“Hard to say,” Alai said. “As nice as it is to look at your ass, your face is quite cute as well, so they pretty much balance each other out. But your butt just doesn’t have the same skill as your tongue does. So I think it might take a bit longer than it did while you were blowing me.”  
  
Arwen sighed. But there was nothing she was willing to do to make the process go any faster. Even though Arwen was still feeling _very_ distracted by what was happening inside of her, the arousal curdling in her stomach, making her body feel weaker and weaker, far more suspectable to pleasure. Arwen swallowed heavily, feeling her nipples stiffening to hard points, and arousal leaking out of her folds. And with her underwear pulled down around her ankles, it would be so _easy_ for Alai to notice that, and to _truly_ humiliate Arwen. Arwen was glad that it hadn’t happened yet, and hoped it never would. But there was still so long to go, and so many things could happen in that time.  
  
The rapid thrusting continued, Alai moving back and forth, rubbing her shaft against Arwen’s rear. It was somewhat chafing, in fact, the shaft, no longer quite so slick with Arwen’s saliva, rubbing against her skin in the same repetitive manner. Arwen frowned a bit, but didn’t comment. After all, it wasn’t like there was a solution to be had that she _wanted_ to do. No, best to just think about something else.  
  
And that something else quickly came to mind, no matter how much Arwen wished it hadn’t. That she was feeling _so_ aroused. That she was feeling so needy. Arwen had _just_ thought about it, but the idea kept on coming back to her mind, no matter how much she tried to get rid of it. There was just no way to properly banish it.  
  
Arwen knew that was a lie. There was one way to take care of it. Two ways, actually. She could take care of her own needs, right here in front of Alai. Or she could ask Alai to move her shaft down a bit, and then slide inside of her.  
  
With a rapid shake of her head, Arwen dismissed that idea. There was _no_ way she could do something like that. No matter how appealing it sounded. There, there was just no way. Yes, Arwen was wet. Dripping, in fact, beads of arousal running down her thighs. But actually asking the woman behind her to treat her in that manner? No, there was just no way that Arwen could do it.  
  
And Arwen wasn’t sure she could bring herself to do the alternative, either. She was feeling worked up, yes. Very, very worked up. But could she actually bring herself to touch herself, right here and now? Right in front of Alai? Arwen didn’t think that was a possibility either.  
  
And yet, Arwen couldn’t, wouldn’t, just keep on waiting for _something_ to eventually happen. With how she was feeling, that sounded almost like torture. Arwen bit her lip, staring up into the cloudless sky, her thoughts chasing each other back and forth in endless circles through her head.  
  
Then something that happened that completely derailed Arwen’s endlessly repeating thoughts. She heard the sound of gravel crunching underneath someone’s feet. Her head whipped around, looking at either end of the path, what little she could see from where she was. It sounded like just the one person, but where were they? Were they on _this_ path? Would they round the corner and see their queen acting in such a debauched, shameless manner?  
  
And who was it? Arwen was suddenly certain that it was someone she knew, that she saw every day. Then an even worse thought came to her. It was Aragorn. Her beloved husband was going to turn the corner and see just what he agreed to. If it came to that, then Arwen thought that throwing herself over the wall would be a better fate.  
  
And Alai was still rubbing her shaft against Arwen. Had she not heard, her dull human senses not picking up the sounds of gravel shifting around? Or did she just not care? Arwen thought that either was equally likely. And what could Arwen do about it?  
  
“Stop it,” Arwen hissed, her voice as loud as she dared to let it be. “Someone is about to round the corner.”  
  
“Let them come,” Alai said dismissively, her voice louder than Arwen’s, but still not _loud_. Perhaps she was feeling a sense of discretion as well. “I haven’t yet.”  
  
Arwen shivered, feeling a horrible sense of tension inside of her as she looked back and forth, from side to side, waiting and dreading the figure that would inevitably appear there. But there was _nothing_ she could do about it besides wait. If she pulled away, and made too much of a fuss, then whoever was there would hear and they would _certainly_ come and investigate, and that would be even worse than the dreadful anticipation Arwen was currently feeling.  
  
And then Arwen finally got a stroke of luck. The footsteps got closer and closer, and Arwen realized they were coming from _behind_ the two queens, on the other side of the large, flowering, view-obscuring bush. And that the path that was there didn’t connect to the one she and Alai were on, not until the very perimeter of the garden. She was safe. Nobody was going to come around the corner and see her.  
  
Arwen sagged forward, a great deal of the tension that had consumed her leaking out of her body. She slowly breathed in and out, waiting for her pounding heart to slow down. She couldn’t believe it. She had thought for certain she was about to be exposed and ruined.  
  
“A narrow shave, hm?” Alai asked, still humping against Arwen’s rear. “I’m sure you’re hoping that will be the last distraction we have here.”  
  
Arwen nodded. She was hoping for that alright. She shivered, wiping some of the cold sweat that had appeared off of her brow. She leaned forward against the balustrade, waiting for her heart to slow down, and stop trying to break out from her chest.  
  
It took a while for Arwen to return to normal. Or as close to normal as she could while she was in this situation. She was still naked from the waist down and letting a foreign ruler press herself against Arwen’s rear, after all. Arwen _sincerely_ hoped that this would never end up becoming something that could be described as normal.  
  
And Arwen was still feeling aroused. She shifted from side to side, trying to ignore what she was feeling, but not succeeding. She was still dripping from her folds, her arousal picking up after the moment of fright. She squeezed down on the stone curb, not daring to turn her head and catch even a glimpse of the tall woman behind her.  
  
“How are you feeling, Your Majesty?” Alai asked, letting go of Arwen’s rear to run a hand up along the elven woman’s back, pressing down against her through her maroon dress. “Are you enjoying this as much as I am?”  
  
“How could I be?” Arwen replied. “Everything about this has been for your own pleasure, not mine. Where would I have gotten enjoyment in any part of this?”  
  
“Oh, I don’t know,” Alai asked, her voice suddenly filled with dark humor. “Let me check.”  
  
Arwen’s eyes went wide, and she tried to pull forward to avoid the hand that had suddenly slipped around her waist and slide down her front. She gasped, and her cheeks started to burn even before Alai’s fingers even arrived at their destination.  
  
“Well,” Alai said, rubbing her hand back and forth and coating her fingers in arousal, “it seems that this isn’t quite such a terrible imposition after all, is it?”  
  
Arwen flushed, not daring to speak a word. Alai kept on touching her, making her sensitive folds feel so, so, Arwen didn’t even want to admit to what she was feeling. She moaned, the sound slipping out of her even as she tried to call it back.  
  
“I thought as much,” Alai said, her fingers still moving back and forth, not actually sliding _inside_ of Arwen, just moving past her lips. “You think I can’t tell when a slut is dripping wet, even when I’m not looking at her?”  
  
Arwen was past the point where insults mattered that much to her. Not when those fingers were still rubbing against her, but not at all moving inside of her and giving her the relief she needed. The closest they got was when they spread Arwen’s lips apart, the finger separating and making herself open up in turn. Arwen squirmed, embarrassed at her body putting on such a lewd display even if _she_ wasn’t the one actually doing it.  
  
“Are you going to turn around and let me get a look at your face?” Alai asked, her breath tickling against the back of Arwen’s head.  
  
“You’ve already gotten quite enough,” Arwen replied as stiffly as she could manage. “I think you should be satisfied with what you’ve already obtained.”  
  
“Really?” Alai asked, still rubbing her shaft against Arwen’s rear and her fingers against Arwen’s crotch. “Because I could give something to you, too. It would be so _easy_ to do, as well.” She laughed, a cheerful sound that mingled well with the bird song from the trees scattered across the garden. “And then we’d both get to feel good together. Wouldn’t that be nice?”  
  
“Just because something feels nice,” Arwen said, barely able to keep her voice level, and not able at _all_ to keep herself from rocking back and forth against the fingers pressing against her, “doesn’t mean it should be done.”  
  
“If you feel that way,” Alai said, her finger sliding away from Arwen’s lower lips and back over her hip, “then I won’t press you. I’ll just wrap up here.”  
  
Arwen nodded, not _quite_ sure if she had won the argument or not. And she couldn’t find it in herself to examine the problem that closely. Not when the shame of the entire situation was still filling her with a red hot feeling, running around underneath her skin.  
  
And Alai was still thrusting against her. Arwen closed her eyes and tried to deny the arousal she was feeling. She didn’t do a very good job of it, and still felt tingles running through her body as the Southron queen kept on thrusting against her, her shaft sliding against Arwen’s body.  
  
Arwen wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. The arousal she was feeling was growing so hot inside of her, demanding so _much_, that every time she tried to drag her thoughts to some other subject, they kept on coming right back to the heat and the need she was feeling inside of herself. Arwen was barely aware that she was adjusting her stance, spreading her legs wider, shamefully exposing herself more and more. And Alai was still thrusting against her, still making Arwen feel so, so, Arwen hated and loved how aroused she felt, how _hot_ she felt inside, how much she needed something inside of her.  
  
Arwen couldn’t take much more of this. Soon, she was going to ask for something. Something embarrassing and shameful and Arwen _knew_ how embarrassing it was. And she knew that she was still going to ask for it.  
  
It took a while for Arwen to realize that the short, sharp gasps she was hearing were coming from her. She flushed, but couldn’t stop herself, any more than she could stop her heart from pounding in her chest, or any of the other things her body was feeling. If she hadn’t been facing away from Alai, she would have buried her head in her hands to avoid the shame she was feeling. As it was, she just stared out across the plain and felt her cheeks burn and her mouth go dry.  
  
“You’re doing a good job,” Alai said, her own voice tense and sharp. “Still enjoying yourself?”  
  
Arwen wasn’t going to respond to that. She was just going to keep staring straight ahead and feel the lust inside of her, the sharp, _sharp_ lust that needed some satisfaction, needed it so badly…  
  
Arwen couldn’t take it anymore. She _needed_ some relief. And there was only one way to get it now. The need inside of her body was so high, so demanding, so needy, that Arwen could only be satisfied in one possible way. It would be horrible, and humiliating and Arwen wasn’t sure how she would ever make up for it. But she just couldn’t put it off any longer.  
  
Arwen took a deep breath and steeled herself. She could do this. She needed to do this.  
  
“Please,” Arwen moaned, leaning forward and spreading her lower lips apart. It was shameful and humiliating and Arwen was so aroused that she didn’t care anymore. “Please, use my body. Make me feel good. Just like you’ve been making yourself feel.”  
  
There was a moment’s pause. Then Alai laughed so loudly that Arwen, even through her haze of arousal, flinched, worried that someone would hear and come investigate. Alai might have felt the same concerns, for after a few seconds of high-pitched laughter, she muffled herself, laughing into her hand.  
  
“Really, Your Majesty?” Alai asked, amusement still lacing her voice. “What happened to your finely-honed sense of moral outrage at my requests? At your grudging refusal to do even something so simple and easy as to give me a blowjob?” Her hand went underneath Arwen’s body, and rubbed at her folds. Arwen gasped as fingers pressed against her. Then they withdrew, and Arwen saw the hand enter her vision, a translucent web sticking to the fingers. “But if you’re this _needy_, then…” Alai trailed off.  
  
“I’ll fuck you in the _ass_,” Alai said, after the tension of the moment had been stretched out to the breaking point.  
  
That made Arwen stiffen. She would have turned around to look at Alai, except for the hand resting on the small of her back, keeping her in place. The thought of _that_ sent a quiver of fear through Arwen.  
  
“What do you mean?” Arwen asked, hoping that she had somehow misheard Alai, or that the queen’s words had some alternative meaning that Arwen was unaware of.  
  
“I mean,” Alai said in an amused voice, “that I’m going to fuck you in the ass.” Her hand came down and slapped Arwen’s rear, the crack of flesh on flesh mixing with the shock of pain and pleasure that ran through Arwen’s body. “Not the pussy.”  
  
“That’s,” Arwen said, taking a deep, shaking breath, “that’s wrong.”  
  
“And what we’ve done already isn’t? What you _asked for_ isn’t?” Alai snorted. “You’re in this just as deep as I am, _Your Majesty_. It’s far too late to be playing that kind of game now.”  
  
Arwen shivered and shifted around, trying to think of a way out of this. Nothing was coming to mind. She couldn’t just leave. She was feeling far too weak and unsteady to even walk away from here right now. And as for the _need_ inside of her, oh, Arwen had rarely felt like this before. It was a fire that _demanded_ satisfaction. And finally, she still hadn’t finished the second part of her agreement with the queen of Near-Harad.  
  
“Wh-why not use my-“ Arwen started to say before the sheer humiliation of what she was proposing washed over her  
  
“Because I don’t want to use it,” Alai unhelpfully replied. “I’d much rather have that sweet, wonderful butt I’ve been toying with.” She chuckled. “And this way, there won’t be any odd explanations in nine months, will there?”  
  
Arwen hadn’t even thought of _that_. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. And now she was coming around to Alai’s point of view. Maybe it _wouldn’t_ be so bad to have her rear get used. It would just be humiliating and maybe a bit painful and Arwen wasn’t sure she would actually find enough pleasure in it. But the alternatives of either using her womanly attributes or not doing anything at _all_ were both far too horrible to contemplate. Sighing deeply, Arwen nodded.  
  
“Very well,” she said, her voice a mix of worry and arousal and shame, “you can… do that.”  
  
“And that is such an _enthusiastic_ response,” Alai said laughing again. She seemed to find a lot of humor in things. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty,” she added, patting Arwen’s rear, “I’m pretty sure that you’ll end up enjoying this. Not as much as me, maybe, but it will still feel _nice_ for you.”  
  
Arwen shifted around, wondering if Alai was telling the truth. She knew she’d find out in about a minute or so.  
  
“Try and relax,” Alai said as she moved around behind Arwen. That wasn’t too likely to happen, especially when Arwen felt something hot and hard resting against her rear, moving in a very small circle that stirred up feelings inside of her. “This will be tight enough without you clenching down like a vise.”  
  
Arwen tried to focus on relaxing. She breathed in and out, her chest rising and falling as she slowly let the tension seep out of her body. It took several minutes, and Arwen could still feel some inside of her, on a deep level. But she was as relaxed as she was going to get without an hour-long massage. Alai seemed to share her opinion  
  
“Good,” the foreign queen said. “And now here… we… go.”  
  
Arwen moaned, clapping a hand over her mouth as the shaft slid into her, in a way that she had _never_ expected anyone would ever use. It _hurt_. There was a bit of pleasure there, just a bit, but it was buried underneath a shocking amount of pain. Arwen’s teeth ground together as she felt herself getting spread open, her body forced to open up far wider than it ever had before.  
  
“Urgh,” Arwen moaned, all the tension that had leached out of her body instantly returning two-fold. “Gah ah!”  
  
“Don’t worry, Your Majesty,” Alai said, her own voice fairly distracted. “Just keep standing there, and in a while it will start to feel better.”  
  
Arwen didn’t see _how_. She was still turned on, yes, but that was because of what had happened to her already, not because of how Alai’s rod was moving deeper and deeper inside of her. And Arwen was sure that any second now she would start to feel the arousal racing out of her, leaving only what could, at best, be called discomfort.  
  
And Alai was still entering her, forcing herself deeper and deeper inside of Arwen. Arwen’s hands left the stone balustrade and went down to her knees, squeezing down on her thighs as she felt the pain and discomfort rising up inside of her.  
  
And yet, and _yet_, there was still something there that felt good. That felt better than good. Arwen’s arousal wasn’t dying down like she had expected. Like it _should_. No, instead, it was staying at the same level, coiling around itself inside of her stomach. Arwen shakily breathed in and out, feeling the lust pressing against her insides.  
  
Even her folds were still wet, arousal dripping out of them and running down her legs in a lewd, obscene display. Arwen couldn’t help it. Even with the pain and the humiliation, she was still feeling turned on, and Alai was still entering her. How much more was there to go? Arwen felt as if there was a foot inside of her already, and she _still_ couldn’t feel the folds of Alai’s clothes brushing against her bare skin.  
  
“My, this really _is_ your first time, isn’t it?” Alai asked, her voice sounding a bit strained. “I’ve had tighter before, but not by much.” She patted Arwen’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice growing tighter as she ran out of air. “You’re going to end up just like all the other girls I did this to.”  
  
If that was supposed to reassure Arwen, it really didn’t. She shivered at the thought. Yes, she was so aroused that she wanted to find her own pleasure even with someone like Alai. But the Southron woman’s words called up something else to Arwen’s mind, some kind of ruined and debauched woman. Arwen _wasn’t_ going to end up like that. She was sure of it.  
  
Even though Arwen was fairly certain that Alai wasn’t as far inside of her as she could manage, the brown-skinned woman stopped where she was. Then she started to pull back. Arwen gasped in relief. It still hurt, of course, but having the shaft leaving her was still good. Although Arwen _knew_ that it would be coming back soon enough.  
  
And it did. The rod didn’t even entirely leave Arwen’s rear before Alai started to push back inside. Arwen moaned, feeling herself getting spread out once more. At least the pain was less than it had been. And Arwen was still feeling worked-up, still feeling the churn of lust inside of her stomach. It was _very_ distracting.  
  
“How much longer will it take?” Arwen asked, using all of her willpower to merely keep her voice somewhat unsteady.  
  
“Oh, I’d say we’ve got a while yet,” Alai said. “And you should be happy about that. It will give you more time to adjust to this,” she reached down and squeezed one of Arwen’s buttocks, hand firmly gripping Arwen’s flesh, “and you _need_ time to feel really good, don’t you?”  
  
“The pain has far outweighed the pleasure,” Arwen agreed, feeling sweat trickling down her brow.  
  
“But you still didn’t tell me to stop,” Alai noted.  
  
And Arwen didn’t tell her to stop now, either. She kept on letting Alai thrust into her, filling her up, making her feel _painfully_ full. But Arwen discovered that even though she felt so _stuffed_, her body protesting as she was opened up in ways she never should have been, the pain diminished a bit with every thrust. _And_ that the pleasure inside of her was growing a bit with every thrust as well. It wasn’t increasing as fast as the pain was decreasing, but the net effect still left Arwen feeling better and better.  
  
The realization brought an entirely new blush to Arwen’s face. Why _was_ it feeling this good? No, she didn’t want to think on the reasons behind that now. She just needed to feel good, like Alai had felt good. And like she was going to feel good _again_.  
  
Arwen shifted around a bit. Though not by too much. After all, she was in _quite_ the position, one that didn’t allow very much movement at all. Even though the rod inside of her didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had at first, it was still very big and very inconvenient, making it _so_ hard to move from the spot she was stuck in.  
  
And as the thrusting continued, Arwen started to realize she didn’t want to leave. The pleasure was starting to grow and grow. Arwen was feeling better and better, the arousal coursing through her body, making her shiver and shake as the lust filled her up in a pink, tingly wave.  
  
“I know _that_ sound,” Alai chuckled. “Finally getting into the swing of things?”  
  
Arwen hadn’t thought that her breathing had changed that much. But it was true. She was starting to _really_ enjoy what was happening to her. It was shameful to admit it, but it was true. Arwen was feeling _good_, and she didn’t want Alai to stop.  
  
Arwen wasn’t sure if she was feeling good enough to finish with just what was happening to her. But there was a way to take care of that. Taking a deep breath, Arwen let go of the wall in front of her, and reached down in between her legs. She shivered, and brought her hand up, feeling her fingers trailing along her skin until they arrived at her crotch.  
  
There was a moment of hesitation, as Arwen let her fingers drift back and forth along her crotch, tracing the outlines of herself, a bit too far away to actually get much sensation from it. Then she nodded, and let her fingers slide in. She gasped, the tingles running through her, as her fingertips brushed against puffy, wet lips. Arwen shivered, and did so again, feeling the arousal clinging to her fingers.  
  
If Alai noticed, then she had yet to say anything. Instead, she kept on driving in and out of Arwen, grunting a bit with every thrust and making Arwen rock back and forth. Arwen shivered, and kept on stroking herself. She felt the arousal inside of her _leap_ upwards, a sudden fire consuming her as she touched herself, feeling a joy spreading through her body that was so much more intense than anything else Arwen had felt today. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as the pleasure grew and grew inside of her.  
  
“Oh, am I not good enough to make you cum from your ass alone?” Alai asked, her voice mocking and amused. “Oh well, it usually takes three or four sessions before the girls can manage that. Don’t feel bad, Your Majesty,” Alai added, patting Arwen’s should in a mock-sympathetic gesture.  
  
“I might as well find some pleasure now,” Arwen replied. “No matter what else is happening to me.”  
  
“As if you don’t love this,” Alai answered back. “It takes a handful of sessions to make human women cum from me fucking them in the ass. But _you_, I bet, I’ll only need two at most, before you get an anal-only orgasm.”  
  
“That is a mystery that will never be solved,” Arwen said as coolly as she could while she was getting treated in such a humiliating manner. “You’re going to have to be satisfied with today and today alone.”  
  
“And I _am_, believe me,” Alai said, seemingly determined to get in the last word in. “You better pick up the rubbing, because there’s only a few minutes left.”  
  
Arwen blushed a bit at that, but did so. In fact, she slipped a finger inside of herself, and moaned, feeling her walls squeezing down around her digit. It _did_ feel good. It felt very good, in fact. Arwen shivered, stroking her inner folds with her finger. There was a spot right _there_ that-  
  
Arwen moaned, louder than before, feeling herself clamping down around her digit. It felt so, so good. And the pleasure coming from behind her finger was increasing as well, the thrusting into her feeling better and better. Arwen shivered, and stared straight ahead, not wanting to acknowledge anything behind her. She just wanted to focus on the pleasure that was welling up inside of her.  
  
Arwen could feel her climax steadily approaching. She even found herself thrusting back against Alai, pushing herself back until she was grinding against the other woman. When she realized she was doing that, Arwen stopped, even though it had felt good.  
  
And Alai kept on moving in and out of her, her speed picking up as she used the Queen of Gondor’s body in such a perverted, lewd manner. And as Arwen kept on touching herself, feeling her finger sliding in and out of her as she ran a finger along her outer folds. It was so enjoyable, even with the possibility of discovery.  
  
“That’s it,” Alai moaned, sounding _very_ satisfied with herself. “You ready to get filled up on both ends?”  
  
For a second, Arwen didn’t understand what Alai was talking about. Then the realization dawned. Arwen squirmed around, feeling the rod inside of her pulse and twitch. It was far too late to do anything about it now, though. Arwen was just going to have to deal with it, deal with the semen that was about to fill her insides up.  
  
Alai muttered something in her own tongue as she came inside of Arwen. Arwen couldn’t spare the thoughts needed to decipher it. She was far too concerned with what she was feeling inside of herself.  
  
Her inner walls of her rear were getting _covered_. Arwen squirmed around, feeling herself getting stuffed with semen. It seemed so _hot_, even hotter than it had been inside of her mouth. And there was so _much_ of it. Arwen gasped, her back straightening as she tried to stand up, tried to find a way to _cope_ with what she was feeling. But she really couldn’t. All she could do was wait it out, as she felt something happen to her that she had _never_ expected.  
  
Arwen gasped, lifting up, trying to pull away from the shaft that was pumping so _much_ hot liquid, so deep inside of her. But she couldn’t muster the strength to do so. She was trapped right where she was.  
  
And, Arwen realized, she was still touching herself. Her finger was still moving in and out of her folds. And even as Arwen realized that, she also realized she was about to find her own climax. It was far too late to stop now, and there was nothing Arwen could do but orgasm.  
  
So Arwen did, gasping and shaking and trembling as she squeezed down around her finger, even as her rear was filled up with so much _hot_ semen. It was reaching even farther inside of her than Alai’s shaft had, and Arwen could feel the mass of seed already inside of her stomach weighing her down. It was such an intense feeling, especially when it was combined with Arwen’s own orgasm.  
  
Arwen panted and gasped and fell forward, her head leaning over the wall. She stared down at the streets of Minas Tirith, dozens of feet below her. Her head swam, as she felt arousal leaking out from around her fingers and running down her legs. And semen leaking out of her as well, and running down the back of her legs.  
  
“Well,” Alai said, sounding very satisfied as she pulled out of Arwen. “Well, well, that was _truly_ amazing, Your Majesty.” She paused for a second, and Arwen heard her take a step backwards. “And you look good like this.”  
  
Arwen flushed, knowing she needed to cover herself up. But she couldn’t quite work herself up to doing it right now. She needed a breather, a chance to recover. Even if that meant that she stayed like this, bent over the wall, her uncovered rear sticking out lewdly as fluids dripped out of her and ran down her legs.  
  
Arwen at least managed to slid her finger out of her and let her hand hang limply by her side. Her heart was beating as if she had run a mile, and her legs were not in much better shape. She had rarely felt this exhausted after a session. She knew _why_ she felt like this, of course. The new situation, the possibility of exposure, there were multiple reasons why Arwen would be worn out after all of this.  
  
And now she needed to redress and get back up to the seventh ring of the city. With all of _this_ inside of her. Arwen shivered as she felt a large amount of seed sliding out of her and running down her leg. But she certainly wasn’t going to spend the rest of the day here in the gardens, no matter how fragrant they might be.  
  
Slowly, Arwen forced herself up. Then she turned around, feeling the skirt bunched up around her ankles threatening to trip her up as she turned. Then, finally, she was able to look at Alai.  
  
The queen of Near-Harad was fully dressed once more, looking quite presentable, without the slightest hint of what she had been up to. Arwen gave her a long, hard look, which Alai merely returned blankly, not showing a hint of what she had been doing less than a minute before.  
  
“Do you need a while longer, Your Majesty?” Alai asked, her voice sweet and helpful. “There are still hours and hours before the negotiations start.”  
  
“I am,” Arwen closed her eyes and breathed in and out, finding a calm center inside of herself. “Fine. Thank you for your concern, though, Your Majesty.” Arwen could be just as polite and composed and graceful as Alai could. More, possibly, with how much more experience she had.  
  
Arwen glanced down at her clothing. She wanted to make _sure_ that there was no trace of what had happened on her clothes. There _was_ the dark blush on her face that was slow to fade, but Arwen could deal with that. That would fade in time, while anything that was present on the outside of her clothing would be _much_ more difficult and embarrassing to deal with.  
  
“In that case,” Alai said, stepping onto the path that would lead to the garden’s edge, “I will take my leave.” She nodded at Arwen. “I will see you after noon.” She paused for a second and smiled. “I have a feeling we will finally make progress in the negotiations today.”  
  
Arwen sighed as Alai left. That… well, it didn’t make everything worth it. But it did go a long, long way to making things _better_. A very long way. And Arwen hoped that with Alai’s support, then her co-ruler would come around and sign the treaty, and things could finally be _settled_.  
  
Arwen hoped Aragorn wouldn’t ask too many questions about this. Or any at all. That he would be willing to accept the good news that the treaty was signed, without having to burden himself with the unpleasant details.  
  
But if she was asked, then Arwen wouldn’t be able to keep things from her husband. She’d just have to hope for the best. And get on with the rest of her day, she supposed.  
  
Arwen started walking down the gravel path. And as she did so, she winced. She was feeling _sore_, sore in a way that she had never really felt before. The knowledge of how that soreness had started sent a blush across her face once more, even as she tried to make her stiff legs move in a natural manner. She did _not_ want to make people wonder what had happened. As she walked, Arwen reached down and rubbed her thighs through her dress, feeling the tense, aching muscles there. And she wasn’t even going to be able to ask for a massage until she was certain that she had thoroughly cleaned herself up so that there wasn’t a trace of left of _anything_ that could lead one towards improper (and sadly accurate) suspicions.  
  
By the time Arwen was at the garden gates, she was moving quite normally. She hoped so, at least. She could feel, inside of herself, seed slowly dripping out of her no matter how tightly she clenched down. It was embarrassing, and Arwen strove to keep her face blank, and to not show a single hint of the sensations that were still inside of her.  
  
Like the hint of arousal that had yet to go away. Arwen was still feeling worked up, a gentle churning inside of her belly as she walked through the streets of Minas Tirith, slowly climbing the long, vast ramp that would lead her to the Citadel where she spent most of her time. Her folds were still somewhat damp, and as her underwear rubbed against herself, Arwen fought to keep her stride normal, instead of adjusting her gait to something bowlegged, as if she had spent hours upon the back of a horse. And there were her nipples as well, the stiff points distracting, though, thankfully, quite, quite hidden.  
  
As Arwen climbed through the city, she glanced at the street that would lead her to the embassy. She turned her gaze, cheeks barely heating. No, she would see Queen Alai at the table this afternoon, and then, hopefully, at the farewell feast as Gondor bid farewell to her and all the others that had come as well. And Arwen’s words of parting would be _very_ sincere.  
  
Arwen gave a lot for her adopted country. But it was all worth it.


End file.
